


E is for Execution

by JaneTurenne



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 21:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneTurenne/pseuds/JaneTurenne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For ravenskyewalker, who asked for a fic with these five characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	E is for Execution

"Awww, Professor, don't be like that!" Ace sulks. "It's not like I haven't already met that Master guy anyway. I can't see why you mind about them zapping _him_."

"Oh, I don't, really," the Doctor says, too lightly, "but I would never turn down such a polite invitation. 'You are cordially invited to witness the vaporization of the Time Lord criminal known as the Master--Sincerely, the Daleks.' Very kind of them, don't you think?"

"Yeah, really great," she laughs. "Can't _possibly_ be a trap, with the Master _and_ the Daleks involved."

"If there's one thing I find even more irresistible than an invitation, it's a trap." The Doctor smiles at his companion. "Come along, now, I won't be gone long. I can be back a week ago, if you like."

"I won't be here a week ago," Ace points out.

"Then I'll be back as soon as I can, how about that?"

"But _Professor_..."

"Ace," he says, soft and deadly serious, "there are some times I can't take you with me."

She stares at him for a long moment, and then looks down and away. "Yeah, all right," she mutters.

He carries her bag to the door, opens it for her on 1996. She's been with him a dozen years, an impossible length for her and the batting of an eyelash for him, and she's just exactly the same girl she always was. So long as she stays here, with him, she'll never change the slightest bit. But he's almost afraid to let her walk away, always has been during the brief times they've been apart. He's always afraid time will catch up with her, every time he turns his back. Time doesn't owe him any favors, after all.

"See you soon, Professor," she says, hoisting up her things, and heads in the other direction.

"Ace," he says, and she turns back. He gives her a smile, and taps her on the nose. "Be spectacular."

"When am I not?" she grins, and turns away.

Something happens to the Doctor's ears, then, something that Ace cannot possibly hear. He knows a perception filter when it's bumping up next to him. It smells like ozone, and hums against his skin.

The Doctor turns, and there's another man standing beside him. He's skinny, and tallish--taller than the Doctor, anyhow. The Doctor approves of his bow tie.

"Take a good look," says the brown-haired fellow, softly and urgently. "No, not at me, _her_. Watch her like this is the last chance you've got."

The Doctor looks at the man in the tweeds for a moment more, and his throat goes dry. And then he spins, and _watches_ Ace just as hard as he can.

At the end of the road, she turns and waves. And from one of those foil-wrapped emergency packets of strength he keeps secreted about his soul for just these occasions, he summons up a smile, and waves back.

He doesn't stop watching until his optic nerves can't possibly be getting any signal, even if they are superior to every other pair of eyes currently hovering a few feet above the surface of this world. He only stops watching at the sound of a TARDIS, beginning to dematerialize.

It's not _his_ TARDIS being stolen out from under him, which is a comfort. It is a blue police box, however. Another tall, skinny young man is holding the door for the man with the bow tie, as a red-haired woman pokes at the controls.

"Wait!" shouts the Doctor, dashing for the other TARDIS. "Wait, you've got to tell me..."

"Goodbye, Doctor," calls the fellow in the tweed, as the door slams shut behind him, and his TARDIS disappears.

The Doctor considers, quietly. And then he plucks a piece of paper from his pocket, scribbles a few words on it, and heads into his TARDIS to retrieve something from the coat-rack.

*

Three days later, when he still hasn't come back for her, Ace wanders back to the spot where he left her. Something red is poking out from under the bush.

Pressed down inside his umbrella, where the weather can't touch it, is a note.

 

 _For Ace,_

 _who is,  
and has always been,  
Spectacular._

 _The Doctor_


End file.
